


The wolf who ran with hunters

by liliaeth



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Scott McCall As Primary, True Alpha Scott McCall (Teen Wolf)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:00:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23626528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liliaeth/pseuds/liliaeth
Summary: While helping a pack figure out who is killing humans in their town, Scott runs into a pair of hunters who are working on the same case. Now he has to both find out who's responsible and keep the Winchesters from figuring out what he is.
Relationships: Chris Argent & Scott McCall, Chris Argent/Melissa McCall, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Kate Argent/Dean Winchester, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 20
Kudos: 82





	1. Chapter 1

1.

Scott shivered as he woke up. He didn’t want to open his eyes, because once he did, he’d have to accept that he was all alone in some crappy motel room. Outside the window, he could see the dusty town in Oklahoma which he didn’t even know the name of.

Chris would be joining him in a few days, but he’d been forced to go talk to some of his hunter contacts, and they’d both decided it would be better if Scott wasn’t there for that.

Scott had just arrived from Tulsa, driving his way here on his bike on his own. Chris hadn't liked it, but the situation in town had been too serious for it to wait. The local pack was suspected of being involved in several murders. The pack claimed innocence, but there were still multiple bodies found with their hearts among other body parts missing. If they didn’t find the real culprit soon, hunters would come to town who wouldn’t care if the werewolves they found were guilty or not. And that meant all wolves in town were in danger.

Scott sat up and headed up to the bathroom, his eyes still welded half shut. He tried not to notice the stench of the mold on the tiles, as he rubbed some water in his face.

He took a quick shower, grabbed his helmet and left his room, checking his phone for the information on the local pack that Derek and Theo had sent him. The Hales weren’t close to the Wilson pack, but they’d had some connections to them through a few other packs. As for Theo, apparently the Doctors had kept track of all the long established packs in the US, and the Wilson pack had a lineage reaching back almost as far as the Hales'. Reading through some of the pack’s history, Scott couldn’t help but wonder how much difference there was between born wolves and bitten ones like himself. He practically walked straight into a guy built like a brick wall because of it. The guy was carrying a cardboard mug holder with two cups on it, and Scott barely managed to grab hold of it before it poured the coffee over both of them.

Then he stared up and up and up, till he found the guy’s face, looming over half a head taller than him, as he mouthed an apology. The guy laughed in reply.

“Nice reflexes.”

“Yeah, sorry, I was distracted.” Scott looked away, quickly grabbing his helmet that he’d dropped as he grabbed for the coffees.

“Something important?”

“Just work.”

“I know that one.” The guy was still looming over him, dressed in plaid and jeans that would have made Stiles jealous.

The guy smiled at him, which made Scott feel even more embarrassed. He quickly handed back the coffees. As the man left, Scott couldn’t help but notice the scent of gunpowder hanging around him. It wasn’t to the point that a human would notice, but to Scott’s more sensitive nose, it made the guy smell a lot like Chris did.

He tried to brush the fear off. They were near the woods, and this was a rural area. People were more likely to carry guns with them in places like these. He still tried to remember which room the guy moved into.

Scott drove up to the sheriff’s office. The Wilson pack had a long history in this town, they were considered one of the founding families. The sheriff might not know about werewolves, or the supernatural, but he’d had enough dealings with the Wilsons to know where to go looking for answers when weird stuff was happening.

Scott introduced himself as an intern working for Argent solutions, a company hired by the Wilson family to investigate the local murders. The sheriff took one look at him and snorted.

“Ain’t you a bit young to be doing this kind of work, kid? Oklahoma sure as hell isn’t California.”

It was pretty expected. Scott knew that at 19, people weren’t likely to expect him to know what he was doing. Hell, he knew for a fact that most of the time he had no clue what he was doing. But he could get enough questions asked to get help with people who hopefully did have the right answers. And if he started looking in the right hornet nests, he might get lucky enough of that the hornet he was looking for, made it easy on him and came after him of their own accord.

“I’m not really supposed to solve the problem, sir. It’s just my job to get the information together, do the legwork, so that when my boss arrives, he won’t be too much behind.”

Scott gave the sheriff the reference letter that sheriff Stilinski gave him, along with some references Braeden and Chris had helped him to get. “Argent solutions has worked with multiple law enforcement agencies in the past.”

The sheriff looked them over, stared at them really, before he finally gave in.

“Well it can’t hurt, figure I’d rather trust someone like you, than those feds that showed up yesterday.”

“Feds?”

“Two big guys, came driving into town in some big fancy Chevy Impala. Real beauty of a car that one. Tall guy and a giant. Pretty hard to miss. The one guy looked like an asshole, the other like he’d thrown out the rule book on what feds are supposed to look like. Guess like no one dared to order him to get a haircut. “

Scott shivered. The pack hadn’t told him about asking anyone else for help, and he was sure his Dad would have told him if the FBI had been officially investigating the case. Scott’s references might be good, but the Argents had used law enforcement as a cover in the past, there was no reason other hunters couldn’t be doing the same.

The sheriff led him to the morgue, where the local doctor was working on the bodies. It wasn’t the first dead body Scott had seen, but the stench of it was overwhelming nevertheless. The wounds definitely looked like they’d been caused by claws. Leaning forward slightly, Scott could smell a pervading scent of terror.

The victim had seen what was coming for him as he died.

The other body had been found two weeks earlier, the girl had already been released to her family, but the sheriff showed him pictures of her. There was little to no similarity. The second body was a man, overweight, muscular, a hunter, of animals, not the supernatural. He’d been a coach at the local high school. 

The previous body on the other hand had been a young woman who worked at the local diner, who reportedly enjoyed a good run through the woods before work. The only thing they really had in common was that they were both killed in the woods.

Scott imagined a newly changed werewolf or an omega, hiding out in the woods, who’d lost control and killed whomever was unfortunate enough to cross their path.

He grabbed his phone and sent a message to Jacob Wilson the local alpha and patriarch of the pack, asking him if he’d noticed any omegas hanging around the area. He’d have to ask the older wolf if he’d bitten someone when he finally managed to meet him in person. Listening to heartbeats wasn’t a foolproof method, but they were better than trying to divine the truth through texts.

He left the police station with copies of the files and headed up to the diner, sitting down in a corner booth in order to make sure he could read the files without someone snooping in. 

It wasn’t until he sat down that he noticed his neighbors. The giant from the motel, and a guy that was almost just as tall. They were talking about the same case he was working on. Scott didn’t even have to use his enhanced hearing to hear them. It almost made him snort and reminded him of how Stiles and he had taken advantage of people’s unwillingness to get involved back in high school. On the other hand, these guys were supposed to be FBI agents…

Scott asked his father to check into the supposed feds via text. His Dad hadn’t gotten back to him yet. But from the way they acted, Scott found it hard to believe that they were actually working for the FBI -- especially once they started talking about how the missing hearts clearly hinted towards werewolves.

Scott was mystified; he’d never once had the urge to eat a human heart, and neither had most of his pack. The only werewolf he’d known to go after human organs, had been that Omega that Gerard had murdered. And even he’d been aware enough to only feed from dead bodies.

The guy with the crewcut was talking about being loaded with silver, which once again had Scott wondering what kind of hunters they were. If they had any experience at all, then they ought to know that silver was a myth. Unless you got off a really lucky shot, then it wouldn’t do any more harm than a regular bullet. He figured he would ask Chris about that when they met up. Scott hated how easily they talked about killing some werewolves, as if it were no harder than putting down a rabid dog, as if werewolves weren’t even people.

Scott stared at the pictures, looking beyond the blood and gore, and tried to imagine why someone would have killed these human beings. There were pictures of them from when they’d been alive, little tidbits on their lives, their backstories. The girl had worked in this diner since she’d dropped out of high school. She’d gotten her GED, had been taking night classes, and had a little girl who was now left orphaned.

The guy, he’d been a lot like Coach: a guy who’d been the star player in high school, got injured in college, lost his scholarship, got a teaching degree instead, and finally came back to his hometown to teach. He’d taught biology instead of economics, but other than that, Scott could all too easily have imagined his last name being Finstock.

Just regular people, living regular lives, and then someone had come and taken those away from them; it horrified him. He tried to imagine what could have happened if he hadn’t had Stiles or Derek to teach him control or if he’d fallen under Peter’s control. But even Peter’s killing spree had had purpose behind it. He couldn’t see any purpose here.

“Aren’t you a bit young to be a cop?” Scott looked up, shocked, realizing he’d been so focused on his work that he’d missed that shorter of the two hunters had gotten up and was looking over his shoulder at the crime scene photos spread out in front of him. _Oh shit._

“I’m not a cop.”

“Then what are you doing with those files?” The guy pulled an FBI badge out of his pocket and flashed it at him.

“I’m a private investigator. I do research for my stepfather. He’s still held up, so he asked me to get the information together for him.”

“Did he now?” The guy sat down on the bench next to him, while the other one sat down on the bench in front of him. “Hear that Sammy. He’s in the family business.” There was a private joke underneath his words.

Scott took a deep breath and calmed his heartbeat. Anchoring himself, by now it came as natural to him, as breathing.

“Shove it, kid. I know the excuses; hell I invented most of them back when we were still working with our Dad. So I’m guessing your ‘stepfather’ is a hunter?”

Scott shivered, trying to think of an excuse and missing Stiles more than ever. Quick lies and on the spot answers had always been more Stiles’ kind of thing.

“Look, it’s alright. We get it. Our Dad wasn’t big on sharing with strangers either.” The giant, Sammy, seemed to be about ready to play the good cop. “Did your stepfather tell you what to look for?”

Scott looked between them, realizing they thought he was a hunter’s kid. Like Allison had been. Which means they hadn’t figured out that he was a werewolf himself, not yet at least.

“Kind of.”

“Meaning.”

“It seems to be an omega werewolf, that or a newly bitten were. I just…”

“Omega?”

“A lone werewolf, one who isn’t a member of a pack. Most wolves that are part of a pack wouldn’t be so out of control.” Scott tried to put some certainty behind his words, unsure how much he should or shouldn’t tell them. Until he was sure about their beliefs in the code, he definitely wasn’t telling them about the local pack.

“Think you’re a big expert on werewolves, do you?”

“My stepfather is an Argent.” Scott answered.

“Of course he is.” Bad cop hunter guy groaned out the words.

“Argent?”

“They’re one of those old Hunter families like the Campbells. From what Kate told me, they specialize in werewolves.”

“You know Kate.” Scott tensed up as he said her name. It wasn’t a good sign.

“Had a fling with her, back when we were about your age. Hot, tough as nails, about as much of a love them and leave them type as I am. Been years since I last saw her though. How is she?”

Scott hesitated.

“She died a while back.” He whispered. “She was Chris’ sister.”

“You’re Chris Argent’s stepson then… I guess it could be worse.”

The guy lifted his hand calling the waitress their way.

“I’m Dean Winchester, this here’s my little brother Sam.”

“I’m Scott, Scott McCall.”

“Well Scott, I guess we’ll go hunt some wolves together then.”

Scott wanted to refuse.

“For Kate’s sake, I’m not gonna let her step-nephew get himself killed, if I can do something to stop it.” Dean sounded almost earnest, Scott wondered if he’d be as eager if he knew the truth.


	2. Chapter 2

2.

Dean kept sneaking glances at the kid. Scott was quiet, wary of them. Dean couldn’t blame him. They were strangers, and the kid probably felt caught out, that they’d figured what he was up to.

Dean wished he could shake Argent, and tell him off for sending a boy that age off to a hunt on his own. Hell, he wanted to tell the asshole off for getting a kid that young involved in hunting in the first place. Scott was what, nineteen, early twenties at most? He should be in college, getting drunk, getting laid, not hanging over crime scene pictures and looking at corpses trying to figure out what the hell was eating people in some backward town.

He remembered the last time he’d seen Chris Argent, the guy had looked tough, overprotective of his little sister when he’d caught the both of them flirting. Not that it stopped Kate from sneaking Dean into her room later that night.

They’d been young, horny, and they both had fathers who expected them to be perfect. Dean had seen so much of himself in Kate, and they’d talked about expectations and the joys of hunting, almost as much as they’d rolled around on bed.

Kate had been a good memory, and Dean had always wanted to meet up with her again, but things just never worked out. And now she was gone. Another old friend lost.

Sam was talking about the information they had, comparing it to what the kid had managed to pull together. That whole ‘private investigator’ con that Argent was running, seemed to be pretty damn effective. Dean wondered if he could make business cards like that, especially if it got him out of those monkey suits they had to wear while pretending to be feds.

The kid was hiding something though. Dean just couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was.

“So what happened to Chris first wife? He didn’t seem like the type to be leaving his first wife for another. Especially as proud as he seemed to be of his little girl, the last time I saw him.”

A moment of pain passed the kid’s eyes.

“Victoria died. She… she was bitten, she took her own life. Allison was heartbroken.”

“Fuck.”

“I was dating Allison at the time. We broke up shortly after.” The boy closed his eyes, his grip tightened on the table. “After Allison died…”

Oh fuck, fuck, double fuck…

“Things just got worse and worse. Chris and my Mom got closer, and my Mom and him got married.”

Dean grabbed his beer and took another sip, imagining Sam in Scott’s place, remembering how broken Sam had been when Jessica had died. And Scott must have been even younger when he lost his girl, along with any hope they’d still had.

He wouldn’t say it, but part of him wanted to protect the boy from any more pain.

Scott knew his business though, the way he talked about werewolves, it was like how Bobby had been about demons. He was clearly knowledgeable on them. Maybe even more so than they themselves were, and Dean knew they learned more about werewolves every time they ran into them. Shifters were like that, so many different versions, all with the same base, but with various leagues of connection to the alpha of the species. From half feral creatures with no idea what they were doing under the full moon, like Madison had been, to more aware, and almost humanlike monsters like Garth and his pack.

“This kind of werewolf, do you think the cure would work on them?” Sam seemed to hesitate. “If they’re new…”

“Cure?” Scott seemed shocked.

“We found a cure a short while ago. It isn’t perfect, if he werewolf it’s given to isn’t strong enough, they might die from it. But… we’ve used it before to save people.”

Scott sat there, frozen for a moment. Dean wondered if the kid knew someone who was bitten. It was as if there was a moment of hope in his eyes before he pulled it back. Then he got back to all business.

“We need to find out who is murdering people, and why. If we don’t do so quickly, whomever it is might kill again.”

Duh…

“But we have to make sure we get the real killer.” Scott’s words were soft, but grew stronger, firmer as he continued, “ I can’t let you murder an innocent, just because they’re… different. If they haven’t killed anyone, if they aren’t a threat…”

“The Argent’s precious code..” Dean spat out. Not that he disagreed with it. But he’d been a hunter for too long to go into a fight with that kind of mind set.

“People don’t deserve to die because of something that was done to them, something they might not have had a choice about. Something they were forced or manipulated into.”

“And what about their victims, do they deserve to die, because you just want to be sure you don’t get blood on your hands?”

Scott flinched back for a second before standing up to him. “Nobody needs to die. Not human, or werewolf, just because someone is a werewolf, they don’t have to be a monster.”

Dean scoffed at the claim, Sam tried to glare at him. And all Dean could think of was the people who had died because they’d been lenient, because they’d let monsters go. And yet… Garth was a monster, Benny had been one too, and that girl Kate who’d been bitten by a guy obsessed with her… And Lenore who’d tried so hard…

He remembered fighting the Mark’s influence. How it had corrupted him, until he’d finally died and no longer had a chance to stop it from taking over.

Scott knew a lot, but he was just a kid, still too innocent to understand that some corruptions just couldn’t be fought. That sometimes killing a monster was the only option. It wasn’t that Dean liked it, he’d had too much blood on his hands already. But being a hunter was about saving lives, no matter how you did it.

Dean snorted, biting into his meal that Sam smartly had brought with him, raising his hand to order another beer. The kid finished his soda, looking about ready to fight him on the argument, when a fight broke out a few tables behind them. A kid, just a few years older than Scott, and a girl were fighting on the guy’s attitude. The girl was tearing into him. That just because she didn’t mind doing her part of the work in the house, that that didn’t mean he had to be a slob about it.

The guy was whining, seriously whining. It made Dean want to slap him over the head and tell him to just take what his girl dished him, and be glad she was willing to clean up after him in the first place. The way he was acting, it was no wonder she broke up with him, telling him to get his stuff out of the house by the end of the day, or she’d throw it out.

It was then that tensions rose up, as the guy grabbed her arm. Dean realized almost a second too late that Scott had gotten up, he wondered how the kid had gotten between the fighting couple as fast as he did, standing protectively before the girl, and glaring the guy down.

When the man left, he opened his mouth as if to make a threat, but then he took another look at Scott, and seemed to think better of it.

Scott hadn’t even had to lift a hand or say a word.

The girl slumped as he left, one of the waitresses helped her to a table, comforting her. Scott on the other hand looked at the door, as if expecting the guy to come back in and cause more trouble.

When the guy didn’t, Scott just moved to the counter and paid for his bill, throwing Sam and Dean one last look. There was power behind that look. A warning, request, demand all in one, and that with a smile on his face. Daring them to let him down. And damn it, it was working, Dean didn’t even know how.

“So… we were just scolded by a kid not even old enough to buy himself a beer?”Sam said, grinning.

“Not scolded. Kid’s just naïve.”

“So you’re planning to ignore him,”

Dean wanted to say ‘of course’, the problem was, he couldn’t. The kid had gotten under his skin, that damn certainty that the world could be better, even when Dean knew reality, was just damn hard to shake off.

“I sent Argent a message, told him we ran into Scott.”

“How did you get Argent’s email?”

“Bobby. ‘Our’ Bobby. He had Chris Argent’s email in his little black book. It’s old, but I figured it’s worth the try. “

Dean still wasn’t used to alternate universe Bobby hanging around, having to realize that no matter how much the man looked like the Bobby they’d known and grown up with, that in reality he was a stranger. And that any similarity to their Bobby was a coincidence.

“Let me know if he answers.”

Dean got up, finished his drink and left the diner. The guy from earlier was standing outside, loudly talking about some horror movie from the eighties with another geek. As if his fight from earlier was already long past. Dean wondered if he expected his girl to just… forget they had a fight in the first place. With the kind of loser the guy seemed to be, Dean wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

Scott was sitting on his bike, talking to someone on the phone. He seemed agitated, somewhat. In that calm collected way that made him look far older than he had to be.

The kid took one last look at Dean, before he put his phone away, put his helmet on and took off.

He ‘was’ hiding something. Dean just wished he knew what it was.

*****  
  


Stiles took one look at the email that Chris had forwarded him and had to sit down. It seems that Scott had run into some old hunter acquaintances of Chris’, and Chris wanted Stiles to check them out, using whatever contacts he had at Quantico.

Not that Stiles had that many, but well… there was that guy he’d almost had a one night stand with… You know, if they both hadn’t been too drunk at the time, to even half remember what they were doing.

So instead Stiles took the id card he’d … copied… from his instructor, carefully checked his computer for spy ware, and checked the database. He was lucky, he didn’t have to go too deep. Not with how many red flags the Winchester name called up. But no matter how comparatively easy it had bee, it had still taken him a few hours to get every bit of information he needed.

Alright, some of it, Stiles could understand. If these guys were hunters, explaining what some monster had been responsible for before they took it out, could be hard to explain. The pack had dealt with enough of that kinda crap themselves.

There was a reason his father had to cover up that tape of the Nogitsune leading an Oni killing spree at the hospital.

But these…

He stared at the video, desperate to look of any sign of shifters at work. Some hint that some kind of Void or other demon had taken over the men in the video. But no matter how hard he tried, all he could see was two human beings grabbing guns and gleefully murdering an entire diner full of innocent people.

Or the other one, where they’d driven people into a bank vault before they opened fire, leaving their victims not a single route of escape. And for what? If it was a robbery, then their victims had already been under control. There had been no need for the massacres.

The file claimed the Winchesters were killed, but it also claimed they were killed multiple times before. So they were seemingly masters at faking their deaths. They couldn’t be werewolves, or Scott probably would have smelled it on them.

Stiles tried to call Scott again, but whenever he did, some automated voice told him that his recipient’s phone was unavailable. It only made Stiles more anxious with his every attempt.

He’d already called Chris, but Chris wasn’t picking his phone up either. Something he’d warned stiles about. He was in the middle of a Hunter’s gathering, and pulling too much attention to his friendship with a werewolf pack, would risk any chance of getting them on their side.

Chris had told him that there was some mention of the Winchesters starting the Apocalypse. A lot of them had gotten rather pissed when he’d mentioned the other hunters’ name. According to him, the Winchesters had a reputation of being damn good at what they did, but that they were dangerous, and tended to get whomever they worked with killed.

Combine that with the FBI files and Stiles had started ordering a ticket to Tulsa before he made even his third attempt to call Scott.

By his fourth attempt he was on his way to the airport, by his fifth, he was about to step on the plane. If it turned out Scott had just forgotten to charge his phone, Stiles was going to kill him, only to have Lydia revive him, so he could do it all over again.


End file.
